


Red

by wherenearheisenberg



Series: Colors [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Post-Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherenearheisenberg/pseuds/wherenearheisenberg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red is his nightmare and his salvation. </p><p>A Buckynat oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this ficlet for a friend. She was feeling constipated. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for misused words in Russian.

The sheets feel soft. Too soft.

James never had anything this comfortable. Actually, he's still on the course of remembering what he missed when he became an assassin for Hydra. He still get weird looks from everyone at the Stark Tower and S.H.I.E.L.D., but there's only one thing - person -  besides Steve who doesn't look at him like that. The red-haired woman who exudes the same aura as him. James found a lot of peculiarities with her, like the way she bargained with Stark just to let him stay at the tower. When he got around to thanking her one day(a thing he hadn't done in _decades_ ), he found himself torn with the look she always gave him.

She looked at him like he was a painful memory, but a memory one cannot live without nonetheless.

* * *

 

James tried to become at peace with everyone, even if not necessarily friends, because he doesn't know how to do that.

When he meets people, either scared of him or powerful enough not to be, he immediately files their name and faces in his mind. It was a habit. He's so natural that he thinks he's done it even before he became the Winter Soldier.

She doesn't see the red haired woman again after thanking her. She hurriedly told him that she's being called by Fury. James thinks it's a lie but she was so convincing that it's hard to tell. He doesn't bother asking her name because he doesn't want to bother her.

One day, when him and Steve talked over lunch(a thing he secretly started to enjoy), he finds out the woman's name and it might've caused a dull throb in his heart or his temple. He couldn't tell.

 _Natasha_.

* * *

 

A swish of red and a heavy-lipped word is enough to create a nightmare.

'Natalia.'

He wakes up in cold sweat, and his human arm rushes to his pounding chest because he's afraid it might burst from his hardened bones.

He doesn't want to see the color of red when it happens.

For some reason, James can't think of anyone but one to help him.

He sets aside his hope and didn't sleep the whole night.

* * *

 

 

Someone is watching him from the dark. He knows it.

He doesn't talk, he doesn't make threats, he just sits there and he takes out a pocketed knife, flings it to the direction and hears the loud thwack of hitting the wall.

He missed.

A swish of red and a heavy-lipped whisper is enough to create his nightmare.

James doesn't want to go back to a life of blindly killing people, so he focuses his eyes and finds Natasha holding his human arm with a firm grip. It's easy to catch her and snap her neck with his metal arm, but there is red on it, like the color of her hair, and it catches him off guard.

"Uchitel." She says, and he remembers only one person to call him that.

"Natalia?" He says, hoping that it is not her, hoping that somehow, she didn't survive the last Hydra attempt to kill her years ago. _His_ attempt.

She only looks, and his hand only needs that to return her tight grip. The hollowness of his chest begins to fill with pain and longing. For once, he doesn't hide the guilt and regret in his eyes.

"How long have you been watching?"

Natasha doesn't avert her eyes. "Five nights. How long have you been wondering?"

"Years."

She presses her forehead against his, like they always do before one of them leaves. It's so perfect, James thinks, just like the times when he couldn't think of anything better than her arms around him.

So that's how the night ends. His lips ghosts over her skin, saying sorry and _lyubov_ over and over, but she refuses his apologies and takes the rest of what he has to give.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone. I'm getting ahead of myself. If you reached here, thank you. Really.


End file.
